


Calling All Autobots.

by Thousandsmiles



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers 4, Transformers: Age of Extinction - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Minor Character Death, Rewrite, Transformers: Age of Extinction (2014)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 17:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16288544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thousandsmiles/pseuds/Thousandsmiles
Summary: A rewrite of the 'Calling all autobots' scene if Bumblebee, Crosshairs, Drift and Hound hadn't been the only ones to answer the call.





	Calling All Autobots.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Kinship](https://archiveofourown.org/works/404431) by [kateydidnt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateydidnt/pseuds/kateydidnt). 



> This is somewhat inspired by certain elements in The Botosphere. I also thought it would have pretty cool if the humans who'd fought with the autobots hadn't abandoned them. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. (Obviously because Starscream would be in the Bumblebee movie instead of Blitzwing.)

At first he thought it was just the rhythmic bumping of his dog tags against his chest that was causing the vibration. But, as he paused to let another group of soldiers pass him in the corridor, the dog tags lay flat on his chest under his fatigues and he felt the vibrations again. Morse code. A simple, easy human language and one impossible to detect by other humans if it came in vibrations instead of audible clicks.

It took him a few moments to figure out the repeated message but when he did, he froze in the middle of the corridor and then a few seconds later he was flying down that very corridor heading to Morshower’s office.

He burst into the doors startling the General enough to make his pen skid over the papers that he was signing.

“Major!” said Morshower startled. His eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“He’s alive,” Lennox breathed. “He’s alive and he’s calling.”

Morshower put down the pen and took a visible breath. “That is unexpected. But Major, you know we can no longer get involved in this. All our careers, all our lives, hell all our families could get destroyed. You answer that call it’ll be treason.”

“I’ve already committed treason sir,” Will Lennox said. “We all have, and to the wrong people…to our friends. I’m going.”

“Major, you can’t answer that call.”

Will clutched the dog tags that were hanging around his neck. He could still feel them vibrating with the coded message.

Calling all autobots.

“I’m not just a major sir,” he said. “I’m an autobot and I’ve abandoned my friends, watched them die, long enough.” He slid his dog tags off from his neck and removed the two that belonged to the army and placed them on the desk in front of Morshower. The one that remained on the chain, the one with the stylized autobot symbol, he replied around his neck. “I’m going sir,” he said solemnly. “It was an honor serving with you.”

Morshower sighed and looked like he needed a stiff drink but he nodded. “Very well Lennox.”

Will snapped a salute and marched back to the door.

“Soldier,” Morshower called before he exited. Will turned to look at the general. “You keep them safe,” he said. It was as much a benediction as he could possibly give and Will knew it. He nodded and the general nodded and then Will was out the door.

 

* * *

 

“Sarah,” he said as he climbed into his car.

“Will?” his wife sounded puzzled that he was calling her at this time of the day.

“He’s alive and he’s calling for his people,” Will said.

There was silence and Will opened his mouth to apologize but Sarah beat him to it.

“Go,” she said.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “Go find you friends Will. Tell them hi from me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said smiling into the phone. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said. “Now go do what you have to. Annie and I will be waiting for you when you get back.”

“Give her my love,” Will replied.

“Always,” whispered Sarah and then she was gone.

Will took a deep breath and then inputted the coordinates that the dog tag was giving him and put his car into gear. He had a long way to drive.

 

* * *

 

She was tightening a nut on the motorcycle when the flat, heavy-duty watch around her wrist vibrated. Mikaela jumped, dropped the spanner and stared at her wrist. It’d been a long time since she’d learned Morse code, enough time for it to begin to fade, long enough that she’d never thought she’d ever have a use for it anymore.

But the vibrating was insistent. And Mikaela, no matter how much she told herself she wouldn’t asner the call, didn’t need to answer he call, instantly began dredging her memory for her knowledge of morse. It came back up faster than she’d expected, as if she’d simply been holding the knowledge under the surface knowing that she’d need it one day. She tried not to think about what that meant. Instead she translated the message.

Calling all autobots! Calling all autobots!

The words were followed by a string of co-ordinates.

Mikaela dragged a hand through her hair and stared at her watch. She still didn’t have to go. The autobots had enough allies of their own…She hadn’t even spoken to one of them for years, long before the Battle of Chicago even happened. The didn’t need her.

She eyed the vibrating watch again and then let out a furious snarl and ran her hand through her hair. Then she marched into her tiny office in the garage and began dumping what she needed into her gym bag.

A few moments later she was on her motorbike and heading off to wherever the coordinates led her.

 

* * *

 

Maggie’s pendent began vibrating while she was at home. It was one of her few off days and she’d spent it lazily; waking up late and hazily drinking coffee. She’d just cued up the next season of her tv series when the little pendent began rattling.

She sat up from her pillows in shock and automatically translated the message as it went through. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand as tears began to glisten in her eyes.

She and Glenn hadn’t taken much of an easily apparent role in NEST. But they had played a large part in it and had been the tech support for a number of missions along with tracking down cybertronian hacks into various networks in order to get ahead of them.

When NEST went down in the wake of Chicago, she and Glenn had gone down with it, being like every one else, reassigned. When they’d become aware of Cemetery Wind however, she and Glenn had sent out a warning to the autobots, to former NEST members and then marched into the nearest official’s office to argue.

They’d been shut down. They’d almost been killed. Maggie and Glenn had been forced to back down and they’d only done so because the autobots would not have wanted them to die for nothing. So, they’d backed away, they’d quit their military jobs and they’d done everything humanly possible using cyberspace to get their teammates to safety. It’d hadn’t been enough, not nearly enough but they had helped until the autobots had gone dark for everybody’s safety.

She’d thought Optimus had died though. Last Glenn had checked, he’d been badly injured in the last conflict he’d been in and through he’d escaped, the chances of him actually surviving had not been good.

So now, with the pendent vibrating in her hand, the message ringing out, she couldn’t help but cry…and hope.

Calling all autobots.

Maggie grabbed her phone and hit speed dial.

“Woman what is it? Don’t you know it’s my off day?”

“Glenn get us a plane!!”

“What? Why?”

“Damn it Glenn, your watch!”

“My watch? What about my….oooh…” There was a mad scramble, the sound of a drawer opening and then: “Oh shit! Oh shit! Maggie this for real?”

“The plane Glenn!”

“Alright! Alright!! Where we going?!”

“Back to America,” said Maggie.

“You kidding me!” Glenn screeched. “You know they gon’ kill us there.”

“Only if they catch us Glenn.”

“We’re in Australia!” Glenn screeched again, “They gon’ have lots of time to shoot us out of the air!”

“Glenn,” said Maggie as she dragged down the suitcase from the top of her closet, “Are you not the hacker who cracked an alien cyber code in under a minute? Are you really telling me you can’t discreetly get us a plane and false IDs?”

There was silence and then. “Damn you woman. You better ain’t quibble about any name I give you on your ID. See you in twenty.”

The phone call cut of and Maggie tossed her phone on the bed and began throwing things in her suitcase. She had a plane to catch.

 

* * *

 

He hadn’t ever expected the dog tag to activate. Agent Graham stared at the dog tag he’d never been able to actually take off and then his usually stoic face edged up in a slight grin even as he murmured,

“I have either the best or worst timing to go on holiday.”

 

* * *

 

When his dog tag vibrated Epps let out a long curse and said, “Oh hell no!”

Ten minutes later his phone rang which was ten minutes longer than he’d expected.

“Are you coming?” Lennox asked.

Epps picked up his bag and said, “Man I am lucky that my wife likes me enough not to file for divorce. I’ll meet you on the way.”

“You’re the best Epps,” Will said before hanging up.

“What I am is crazy,” Epps murmured to the room at large but his hand went back to the dog tags that hung around his neck. He remembered how it felt when he’d thought they’d died the first time. It had been nothing compared to when he’d seen his friends die a second time, this time for real.

It had been the single worse day at base, a memory that Bobby Epps wished he could forget. In the end, they’d died, not trying to fight, but not trying to hurt the humans who were intent on killing them and they’d died trying to protect the humans who had been in the line of fire, who’d been considered acceptable collateral damage in order to destroy the autobots.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t had any warning. Maggie and Glenn had come through for them, had warned them all in time for them to put contingencies in place. But they hadn’t banked on Cemetery Wind finding human casualties to be acceptable.

Freaking Skids and Mudflap had died for Epps and the contingent of autobot-loyal NEST soldiers to escape. They’d died for those NEST soldiers to eventually take a deal offered by their own government. Optimus had insisted. The NEST soldiers had argued for hours but in the end, Optimus won the argument. But Epps knew, every one of those soldiers knew, he’d only won the argument because they’d all planned to slide back into whatever ranks they were reassigned in order to help the autobots from afar.

When the autobots had finally gone dark for good though, Epps had quit the military. He’d been inching his way out even before Chicago and finally reached the point where he was ready to fully step out and take a new path in life.

He’d never expected the dog tag to vibrate. Only he must have, because he’d never stopped wearing the damn thing.

Calling all autobots.

He’d been waiting a long time to hear that call.

 

* * *

 

In Monument Valley, a flame colored Peterbilt draws to halt, disengaging his human passengers before transforming into the formidable form of Optimus Prime. Surrounding his are four of his autoboot warriors, Drift, Crosshairs, Hound and Bumblebee. They are all who have answered his call, or so he thinks.

They wait of course. Optimus cannot, doesn’t not want to think that these are all that are left of his people. He hopes that there are more hidden that are unable to arrive if only because moving at this point may be dangerous to their wellbeing. Hound is right when he said that they are being picked of one by one. Deeper inside him, he thinks, no hopes that there are more of his people out there even if they choose not to answer his call because they’re tired of war. He just hopes they’re alive.

It’s so late it’s early when they hear the next engine. The sound is followed quickly by two others, one as heavy as the first, another much lighter. No spark signature is present from any of the approaching vehicles yet they are coming unerringly towards them. Optimus nudges the humans awake in case they must run and he and the other autobots carefully pull out their weapons.

They wait for almost fifteen minutes while the engines grow louder. The humans fidget, nervous and scared and Optimus does not blame them. Still they wait, they all wait, and finally the vehicles come into view.

They are not Cemetery Wind’s scary cars, nor are they the black SUVs also commonly used. One is a jeep, another a van and the third is a motorbike. None of them stop when they see the cybertronians but neither do they pull our guns or send any outgoing transmission to their people.

Behind him Bumblebee gives a sudden, shocked chirp. The yellow scout is frozen, optics fixed on the motorbike’s rider. Then he is stepping forward, making his way to the motorbike. He doesn’t go far; the motorbike is coming up fast. The rider spins the bikes and brakes to stop a few feet from Bumblebee who crouches down.

The rider kicks down the stand for the bike and casually pulls of her helmet shaking her hair back.

Optimus feels his spark contract at the sight of the rider.

Mikaela Banes.

“Hey Bee,” she says as if it hasn’t been years since they’ve seen each other. Bee makes a noise like a keen but his radio stutters out,

“Hey you! Been awhile.”

“Awhile,” Mikaela agrees. “Too long,” she said after a moment.

It is at this point when the other two vehicles pull up. Will Lennox hops from the truck and Bobby Epps comes from the jeep.

In his casing his spark contracts even harder before expanding in a hopeless feeling of gratitude, relief, love, disbelief, awe and utter surprise.

“Major Lennox,” he greets.

“Just Lennox now O.P.” he says casually.

“And it’s just Epps as well,” Epps adds.

“Got your message,” Will says. “Came as fast as we could.”

It has been a long time since Optimus Prime has been rendered speechless. Centuries in fact, by human reckoning. But here, in this drab desert, in very wee hours of the morning, Optimus found himself without words.

He hadn’t thought that the humans would even be wearing the communicators they’d given to them so long ago. He’d assumed that the communicators were most likely confiscated by their leaders and that even if they hadn’t that they would choose to stand with their own people if only to protect their own families.

He hadn’t expected them to respond to his call. But they had. They had and they were here, clearly showing signs of a long journey.

“Oh, there’s more coming by the way,” Mikaela speaks up utterly oblivious to the effect her words have on his processor. “Graham is flying in from England and Maggie and Glenn are apparently en-route from Australia. They got in touch with us a few hours ago. By all accounts Graham is bringing some people with him.”

“Some of the other NEST-ers are on board too,” Will speaks up. “They’re ready to give us whatever info they can get for us when we need it.”

“Wait who they hell are you people?” Cade Jaeger demands finally snapping out of his surprise.

“Will Lennox and Bobby Epps are both former NEST members, the military organization that assisted us in hunting for deceptions. Mikaela Banes is one of the first of your people that I met when I landed on Earth and is a very old friend. One, whom I never thought to see again.”

Mikaela’s face flickered with guilt but she stood tall and said, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again either.” She paused and then said painfully, “And then I really didn’t think I’d you ever again. Any of you.”

“My apologies,” Optimus replied. “We thought it best not to contact any of you in order to keep you from harm.”

“But if you didn’t contact them, why are they here?” Tessa asked timidly.

“That’s what I want to know!” Crosshairs spat still glaring at the new arrivals in suspicion.

The three humans however glanced at each other amusedly before Lennox replied.

“Because he sent out a call for all autobots.”

“And that,” said Mikaela, “is what we are.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was a dungeon. A modern, high-tech, cutting edge dungeon. He was alive. He was conscious but barely. He was in a coma, trapped in his own mind. Outside, his body didn’t obey him, couldn’t anymore. Torture will do that to you. And drugs.

He’d been here for what felt like forever though realistically he knew that it had only been years. Two, maybe three years at the most. They’d been running for quite sometime before he’d been caught.

He knew that most people thought him dead. Honestly, he wished he was. If he was dead he wouldn’t give away secrets. If he was dead, he would be able to translate the cybertronian glyphs they showed him. He’d always kept his ability to understand the language under wraps. He really didn’t want to know how his captors had found out. He suspected it had something to do with another interrogation only most like they hadn’t cared to keep whoever it was alive like they did with him. 

Still, he held his tongue whenever he could. He deliberately miscommunicated what he possibly could even under the influence of drugs that sought to drag everything he knew out of him. He may not be metal and spark energy, he may not be a warrior but he wasn’t a coward and he’d always been clever with his words. His captors found his frustrating. Every day they loathed the fact that they could not kill him, not yet. He took great joy in provoking them whenever he could. They took greater joy in making him scream.

He’d lost track time, the days all blurring into one another but suddenly something new burst into being.

It was a tiny vibration. It came from a small cluster of nanites embedded in the back of his skull. The nanites were silicone based mixed with another similar element of decidedly alien origin. It was undetectable by anything humanity had to offer and was almost virtually untraceable to the majority of cybertronians.

It had been, he suspected, damaged during his capture as it currently sent tiny spikes of pain through his skull every now and then. His subsequent torture hadn’t improved the situation. Whatever power left in the tiny cluster of nanites was only barely enough for them to keep from shutting down completely. Thus, the vibration was a surprise in more ways than one. But it was not unwelcome.

It took his fuzzy brain longer than usual to translate what was being said and when he finally did, fogged eyes lit up with true happiness.

Calling all autobots. Calling all autobots.

There was more, a destination that he deliberated didn’t decode, but he didn’t need to.

It was enough. It enough to know they were alive. Enough to know that they’d survived his unwilling treachery. Enough to know that they were ready to fight again.

Sam Witwicky fought past the drugs, fought past the effects of physical torture, opened his mouth and laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy. I am mildly toying with the idea of having more but I'm not sure. Tell me if you think there should be more or not!


End file.
